


Stagnation

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Chick-Flick Moments, Cute, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love, Reader-Insert, Short, Stitches, Two-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6708652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here in this moment is where you wish to live, to be and exist. You want to drink in the fullness of his midnight lashes suspended over mossy eyes. They’re latched onto your face and you can feel the blush stretch it’s way like a highway from ear to ear. You want to be laying on your back, pressed up against the cool exterior of the Impala, staring up at the constellations. They never change, they’re timeless, so why do you need to? Why does time need to keep on ticking?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Here in this moment is where you wish to live, to be and exist. You want to drink in the fullness of his midnight lashes suspended over mossy eyes. They’re latched onto your face and you can feel the blush stretch it’s way like a highway from ear to ear. You want to be laying on your back, pressed up against the cool exterior of the Impala, staring up at the constellations. They never change, they’re timeless, so why do you need to? Why does time need to keep on ticking?

Why can’t it just stay here, right here, with Elvis playing lightly in the background. Your hand is held tightly in his and you inhale to the counting of his freckles.

“Where do we begin?” You break the stillness, the bambi-like, unaffected, innocent stillness.

Dean’s smile becomes a little more grim, but his eyes held onto yours. Locked like a sniper on his target, “I don’t know,” He breathes, each little word ghosting over your face. You close your eyes and feel the fluttering of each lash against your cheekbones. You lean into him, into his warm embrace because you feel safe.

“I don’t want to lose you,” You say and it sounds so important, too important for this high school-esque background. Sitting on a car on an abandoned hill overlooking the city.

“You won’t,” He says and you can feel giddiness gripping your heart. For once Dean Winchester was having a chick-flick moment. For once he was princely, promising forever, ever, after. Whatever that even was.

It’s not even that you two were going to be separated, no, you’d joined the boys on the road years ago. An old skinwalker hunt that you’d both been working. It had just been too close of a day. Too close of a year really.

You breathed out a laugh, all choppy and loose. Half snorting. Dean tucked his head against your neck, burrowing his nose in the curve of your collarbone.

“You know that’s not really a promise any of us can keep,” For some reason you’re still laughing, laughing in spite of the sorrow. The sorrow of that little, tiny, insignificant bullet just inches from your face. The one that grazed it, a baby nick on the crest of your cheek. It stung in the night air, riding on bursts of pain, little buzzes like a phone in your pocket.

Why did you have to leave this moment? This bubble moment? This scrapbook, tell your grandkids moment? You knew it was because you and Dean were both adults and hunters and you had responsibilities to upkeep. But damn it if you didn’t want a pause button.

“No, we can’t. But we can try and that’s good enough for me,” Dean unfolded himself from you. Pushing up against the glass windshield of the car. His hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a compact bruise forming in the shadow of his jaw. Where the windigo had nicked him.

You nodded, scooching up as well. You looked at Orion in the sky, the stars gleaming back at you. Strength and courage all in some light. Beauty too.

Sam was back at the motel and you knew you’d be needing to get back to him. Needing to reassure him that you and Dean weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. But you wished to stay, collecting and stealing seconds in your hands. Grasping the time with Dean, without the fear of pain and loss and suffering.

Because even if this moment couldn’t last forever, you’d at least settle for a few brief breaths of stagnation. Bliss in the eyes of your borrowed time as a hunter. Of time that you were sure had run out at that hunt today. Just a shake of the hand, a burst of defiant wind and you’d be….

Stagnation was were you were going to burrow. At least for tonight, next to Dean, light notes of music floating into the night sky. This was where you were going to craft a neverland. This was where you would stay. Perfection in all its glory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To GossipGirl and LWinchester that wanted a second part. I hope I fulfilled what y'all wanted. :)

The seconds slip out of your hands like sand in a strainer and you find yourself gazing out the window, the wheels of the Impala gliding on the highway. It’s raining and blurry brake lights peek through the windshield. Your cheek throbs, the bullet graze a deep wound glued together with nothing but platelets. 

Dean notices you fiddling with the wound and removes a hand from the wheel, wrapping it around your arm and tugging down. He frowns at the chill to your skin and bumps up the heat. 

“The second we get home that’s going to need stitches,” He states, not unkindly but you can hear a slight growl in the vowel of his sentences.

“Yes sir,” You say and waggle your eyebrows at him. 

“You find this funny, Y/N?” A single brow arching above those granny smith eyes.

You feel your mouth diving into a frown and you wish that Dean would take his eyes off the road to look at you. 

“Yeah, I find a lot of things funny. Your mood is not one of them,” You say and you feel like you just dived into shark infested water. 

You expect him to become agitated, to set up for a lecture. You expect his nose to twitch and his mouth to open and those oh so sharp words to come flying out like darts. Instead his face falls, his gaze lowering to the middle of the steering wheel. He bumps up the music a few notches and clears his throat. Pink splotches bloom on his cheeks like water color paints on a pristine white canvas. 

“Dean,” Your voice almost breaks when his tears slip out like secrets on the waves of too many beers. 

“I can’t, you almost,” Fragments, broken sentences coming from just as broken of a man. 

“But I didn’t Dean, I’m here and I’m alive and it’s all okay,” You say and grasp one of his hands, laying it over his heart. Guilt soars in your heart and you can feel the talons catching into your chest.  You sit in silence, swaying slightly to the music while Dean drives over, parking Baby in the parking lot of the motel. You can see Sam’s light on and smile knowing that he’s waiting up for you two. 

The metal clanking under your feet is the only break from the sickening silence emanating from Dean. He swings the door open, his key scratching lightly against the door knob. Sam skitters over to the other side of the room when he sees Dean and you wince, pulling the irritated skin and giving out a little hiss. 

He whirls around, picking you up around the waist and depositing you on the bed you’re tempted to get up and get ready for bed but the second your foot moves Dean snaps his teeth at you. 

“I don’t want stitches, I want sleep,” You call out and Dean ignores you. Counting the whorls of the fan blades like sheep, your eyes slowly become heavy. Dean finds you half melted to to the sheets, quickly flicking his lighter on and sterilizing a single needle. 

He prods your shoulder, trying to drag you upright and you harumph. 

“Y/N, come on I need to fix you,” He chuckles lightly and you break your grumpiness for a split second, a flash of a smile blinking on your face. 

“But...but...but...bed.” You mumble, your head rolling onto his shoulder. Your wound hits the crest of his collar bone, splitting back open. Dean curses, taking the top of your head in one hand and tilting it upward. 

“You’re bleeding, you are getting the stitches and unless you want a scar you are going to sit still for me,” The growl is back in his voice and you just slowly nod. Your bottom lip trembling in exhaustion, tears pricking the back of your brilliantly colored eyes. 

“Hey, no, none of that,” Blankets and teddy bears his voice could be. He swipes his thumb across your jaw bone as you pry your tired eyes open to look at him. 

“I’m sorry I scared you tonight. I scared myself too,” You say and this time Dean is gulping back guilt. 

“It’s not your fault. It’s just been a long night. Tell you what, every stitch you sit through I’ll kiss you,” Dean says and you open your eyes again, managing to send him what you hope is a seductive look. 

You narrow your eyes, “Deal,” Dean begins, piercing the needle through paper skin and looping it around the gash. You whimper but he cuts off the noise with his lips. 

Sparklers ignite and you smile against him. Leaning deeper into it. He pulls away too soon and you pout, but sit still for the next stitch. 

He kisses you deeper this time, letting the needle hang loosely from the thread while he cups the back of your head. You nip the bottom of his lip and he groans before reluctantly tugging away again. 

One more stitch and you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him down onto the bed. You could feel the flush rising into his face, the lust bursting in his eyes as once again he pulled back, trying to focus back on his doctoring task. He fumbled the needle when you unbuttoned the top two buttons on your top, the fabric parting just enough to show cleavage. 

The rest of the stitches may have gone a little more quickly after that...

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a really short one-shot but I thought the idea was really cute. If you guys liked it please leave a comment/kudos. I love hearing feedback!  
> Thanks!! <3


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